Sleeping Flowers
by Kimsa Ki-Lurria
Summary: Nanao x Stark. On a routine mission to the Real World, Nanao encounters a problem. A very attractive, ghostly problem. “Rarely does something truly interest me,” Stark murmured, “but when it does, I am not prone to letting go.”


My second attempt at a Nanao x Stark one-shot; contains implied Nanao x Shunsui and references to Lisa See's _Peony in Love_, a book I highly recommend to any reader looking for a well-written, romantic Chinese ghost story…or just a good story in general.

Disclaimer: I do not own_ Peony in Love_, Bleach, or William Wordsworth's "The World Is Too Much with Us," from which the title _Sleeping Flowers _is taken.

Enjoy!

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_Sleeping Flowers_

For the first time in her life, Nanao was faced with a Hollow and had no idea what to do. If his sword had been out, she'd have at least known to release her kidō on his unlucky, rotten soul. If he had been letting more reinforcements in to attack Shunsui's squad, she would have known to warn her captain and the others.

But this…this dark-haired Espada who leaned against a wall crawling with morning glories with his head tilted back, eyes shut, and arms folded loosely across his chest…she had no idea what to do with him. He wasn't attacking or doing anything remotely suspicious. He was just _standing there_.

The Espada lifted one eyelid to regard her lazily. Nanao instantly tensed, her fingers curling in anticipation of an attack, but the assault never came. The Espada studied her easily with one curious eye, taking in her shinigami robes and battle-ready hands. Nanao's muscles tensed even further; she was convinced that _now_ the Espada would fall true to his Hollow nature and spring forward in a brutal, vicious offense.

Instead, to her increasing confusion and frustration, the Espada turned his head to look out at the skirmish unfolding at the bottom of the hill they were standing on.

"Why aren't you down there?" he asked in a deep rumble, gesturing idly with one hand to her fellow 8th division shinigami as they defended a cluster of human houses from a thick gang of Hollow. Nanao frowned.

"Why would I tell you that?"

The Espada shrugged one of his shoulders. "No reason. I wouldn't, if I were you. It's just that you seem neither weak nor cowardly, so I would expect someone like you to be down in the middle of that chaos, trying to keep order in the ranks."

He rolled his head to stare at her expressionlessly. "Well. That's how it seems, anyway."

Nanao shivered. The Espada had described her desired actions as perfectly as if he had known her for years. How could he know so much about her from a single glance?

"Stark," said the Espada. Nanao jumped.

"What?"

"Stark," the Espada repeated in a slightly irritated tone. He dipped his head just the slightest fraction. "And you are?"

"Oh." Nanao, initially disarmed by the Espada's offhand greeting, gathered her defenses tightly around herself and stood as tall as her petite frame would allow. "I don't see why I should let you know, since you are the enemy, and technically we should be at each other's throats by now."

Stark raised an eyebrow. "How rude. Is that how you usually respond when someone introduces himself, Nanao?"

Every one of Nanao's nerves stood on end with wariness and excitement. _Now_ the Espada was starting to behave like one of his kind. Maybe she would finally be able to know how to deal with him.

"How do you know my name?" she hissed suspiciously.

"I've been watching for a while," Stark replied, again gesturing half-heartedly down at the battle breaking out below them. "Your captain calls you Nanao-chan. It wasn't difficult to deduce your name from there."

"If you've been watching all this time," Nanao said, her hands still curled into waiting fists, "why haven't you attacked yet?"

Stark gave her a look that was half curious, half disdainful. "Why should I?"

Nanao's jaw nearly dropped open. For a long, drawn-out moment where the only sounds were the far-off clash of metal and claw, she stood staring at him dumbly. "Because," she finally spluttered. "Because you're Hollow. It's what you do."

Stark sighed and examined a deep blue morning glory by his cheek before plucking it off its stem. "Is that what you think? That all of us are the same?"

Nanao floundered for an answer. Stark studied her languidly again and pushed himself off the wall, standing slouched before her with the morning glory in hand. Nanao took a step back. She didn't like the look in his golden eyes at all; it was much too serious and intelligent, and completely offset his lazy posture and manner.

"Eh," said Stark with a shrug of his shoulders, "fair is fair. I had pegged you for a typical shinigami, cowering on the wayside until luck was on your side. But I see now…you are different. Interesting."

He began to circle her. To her rising surprise and annoyance, Nanao found she had gone back to not knowing how to react to the golden-eyed Espada's advances. And Nanao did not like not knowing what to do. She should have been bristling with wariness and battle-readiness. Instead, she merely watched Stark as he came around, twirling the morning glory thoughtlessly between his fingers, and circled back again. She felt neither threatened nor intimidated.

Wasn't there something wrong with that?

Something brushed lightly against the back of her neck. Nanao jumped, startled, and whirled around—only to find that Stark had ghosted the morning glory against her skin and not touched her with his bare fingers. She shivered with relief and something like regret.

Stark examined her expression, a thoughtful look crossing his handsome face, before continuing to circle her. "But I must add that you are behaving like a typical shinigami, cringing off to the sidelines while your companions fight."

Nanao did bristle this time, if only with indignation. "I'm not cringing," she countered heatedly. "I'm following orders. Kyoraku-taichou ordered that I wait here while he and the others took the brunt of the attack."

Something like the faintest hint of smug amusement flitted across Stark's face and was gone in an instant. Inwardly, Nanao cursed herself. She knew she tended to blurt things out when she was flustered, and she was nothing _but_ flustered right now.

"So you're cowering on your captain's orders," Stark concluded.

"No!" Nanao winced, knowing she was about to reveal herself to the enemy, but not caring enough to stop herself. She had already started down this path; why not finish it? Besides, Stark didn't act like the other Hollow. Somehow, she held the faint and insane trust that he would not repeat her words to anyone. "He said I'm to keep an eye out for any enemies who wish to ambush the squad."

Stark trailed the flower against the outline of her jaw, and this time she did feel the brush of his skin against hers. She leaned back, startled by his boldness. Stark met her eye, lifted his eyebrows again, and circled back.

"And you aren't pleased with being the look-out," he guessed.

Nanao hesitated. She was about to divulge her misgivings to the enemy. To a _Hollow_, a deadly Espada no less, who would no doubt cut her throat out if Aizen ordered him to. To Stark.

She pushed ahead.

"No. You were right the first time; I would rather be down helping my teammates or keeping order in our ranks. But I have to obey Kyoraku-taichou's orders…even if he imposes them only to protect me."

She hadn't meant to say that last comment. It was supposed to stay safe and secret inside her head where no one, least of all a powerful Espada, could get at it. Nanao flushed and nearly flinched when the morning glory paused on its trek down the sensitive skin of her neck. Stark came around to face her.

"That's strange," he commented. "You seem like you can handle yourself well enough."

"He means well," Nanao said quietly, lowering her eyes in soft shame, "and I know that he loathes to see anyone get hurt. But…"

"It's insulting." Stark traced the outline of her neck with the morning glory. Nanao's breath caught as he altered its path to brush just below her collarbone. "He shouldn't keep you up here like a glass figurine. I wouldn't."

Nanao trembled at the sudden promise of possessiveness in the Espada's voice. She swatted the flower away from her with the beginnings of anger starting to well up in the bottom of her chest. Who did he think he was, that he could hint she would belong to him in any way? Why had she allowed him to touch her, even if it was only with a flower? What had possessed her not to run to Shunsui's side and alert him to this new danger?

"Stop," she commanded. "You might be different than the other Hollow, but that doesn't mean I won't kill you if you give me reason to."

The only expression of surprise on Stark's face was the way his eyebrows tried to climb up to his hairline. A myriad of emotions flitted through his brilliant eyes: amusement, wariness, and…respect?

The last one was enough to disarm Nanao all over again, so she was unprepared when he leaned down until his face was nearly level with hers. She could feel his breath on her lips, and it was nothing like the freezing chill she had expected. He was warmth and comfort and _stop that, Ise, before you do something very inappropriate._

"Rarely does something truly interest me," Stark murmured, "but when it does, I am not prone to letting go."

Nanao's eyes widened. Before either of them could act, though, a victorious cry rose up from the battle ground below them. Nanao peered around Stark's unmoving form. She could see Shunsui's pink-clad form in the midst of the triumphant shinigami and felt her relief curving up her lips in a thankful smile.

"Oh, look," Stark said with a lethargic sigh. "You won."

Nanao looked up at his tone. His hand moved, but instead of attacking as she thought he finally would, he tucked the morning glory between the strict plaits of her hair.

"And it seems you already belong to someone else," he said. "Which means that taking you would be stealing."

Nanao smirked. "I don't belong to anyone," she said firmly.

Stark leaned back and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hmm. Perhaps next time, then."

He wandered away from her, and the loss of his presence was like a great and wonderful weight being lifted off her shoulders. Nanao watched as he walked a short distance away and opened a garganta mid-air. Stark paused just as he was about to enter and gave her a parting once-over, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well," he said lazily, "what do you know. Dying flowers really do look good on death gods."

With that, he had passed through into another world and was gone. Nanao removed the morning glory from her hair, but when she went down to meet Shunsui, she kept it tucked firmly under the sleeve of her robes.

_For another time…_

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A/N: Review, please?


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